Hope you enjoy this; I knew I was gone, I believed I was finished and the only hope I supposed could have helped was the the rescue from my African gods and spirits of the dead, for I was a true servant of them and numerous of my white chicken they had swallowed; With a wild pulse it seemed Zakiiya’s farm was a grave of hearts and now mine a sorry African journalist, though mine was not owned by the moon but in oblivion had gone unruly in this field of horror!; As I rested on their shoulders to the collection ground of their catch, said my last prayers, calling upon the black spirits and gods for the rescue of their own blood, their son! I invoked all the spirits from down my Tanganyika soils up to the lords of Somalia lands to come to the rescue of their own, I called upon the Ghadar a god of the winds, that this was his time to act, if truly a lord of mine!, Eitalon king of the winds, and ended my supplication with Lubaale the lord of the Nile and Ugandan overall spirit, which I was very sure, that with the African force of lords combined their sole son in the land of beasts was safe! To my dismay, there was no lighting at all, a purported sign of their presence, for the rescue of the black son, totally no hope of rescue from the African soils! “For the African gods are cowards, they protect only in winter and you protect them in summer! “For they take off with a bullet shot and only remember their role when all hell is calm!, “They give everlasting courage in smoke and feeble away in fire! “The stay in lakes and the hillsides waiting for it to rain to enjoy the harvests with their subjects, for they are gods when all is well not in furnace of hell & turmoil!, “For their appetites are great and all my white chicken they had swallowed and here I lay hopeless and a deaf ear they gave to all my devoted calls!, These gods of mine had feared to burn in this steam, had forgotten their own, comfortably waiting for it to rain for them to enjoy the harvest, Damn you African gods!! To hell with African spirits! Now left lonely in this quagmire among the clan of wolves I knew I was gone, sent my words through the winds of the East to my family members in Ngorongoro, a remote village of Tanzania “To my lovely Rakimah Okola, I’ve gone! My love to you has vanished!, For every spirit and African god are enemies of thine!; Am gone my love, For I left you pregnant my love and this is a will of mine; When though begets a boy, the name I suppose is Emmanuel, and if though begets a girl, the name will be yours to give; These hundred kisses I send to you as a last package of my passion, Those thousands of hugs I give you to ever feel my warmth, I’ve gone my dear and all of mine is now a belonging of yours! as I signed off to open winds;
Posted on: Fri, 19 Dec 2014 04:27:04 +0000
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